


Who Watches Night Vale?

by theunknownfate



Category: Watchmen - All Media Types, Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Hurt/Comfort, Kink Meme, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-01-08 16:23:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1134856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theunknownfate/pseuds/theunknownfate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for <a href="http://spam-monster.livejournal.com/4913.html?thread=17014065#t17014065">this prompt</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It had been a personal request. Adrian had asked Dan to come check out a rash of bird deaths. He was thinking of investing in a desert community company, Adrian had said, but he wanted to be sure everything was on the up and up. And he didn't really trust the company's research. 

"You're the best bird expert I know," he had said, voice warm and sincere over the phone. "If you told me something was shady, I would believe it." So now, there was Dan, driving out into the desert for some place called Desert Bluffs. He wasn't exactly sure why his opinion mattered so much to Adrian, but he hadn't done any field work in awhile and if there was something he could do to help either an old friend or some migratory birds, then why not. It would be nice to get out of New York in the winter anyway. 

It took a few days to drive south and west. He was hoping this would be the last day, if he could make if before dark. The radio reception came and went as he wound his way farther into the desert. It seemed to hop back and forth between two stations. Both voices were garbled, but one seemed aggressively cheerful, and the other darker. He was never sure if he was hearing it right. Something that sounded like a report on a local football game static-ed out and then there was something about two heads? Then the perky one mentioned StrexCorp which got Dan's attention because he was pretty sure that was the one Adrian was talking about buying. 

He wasn't really looking forward to snooping around what was probably a small town's only real economy. He had passed enough empty shells of ghost towns on the way here to know what happened to a town when there was no business. He didn't want to be the one to shut down a town and all the families in it. Hopefully, it wouldn't come to that. 

The sun was going down faster than seemed natural. He could see lights in the distance. Hopefully that was Desert Bluffs. He topped a hill and then the second radio voice came in clear. It was a commercial for a pizza place that sounded almost like a threat, but man, pizza would be good right now. It would be good just to get up and walk around for a little while. If it wasn't Desert Bluffs, he could get directions. His GPS was having fits out here.

The exit was coming up quickly so he turned into it and headed into town. The sign said Night Vale. What? That wasn't even on the map. Oh well. At least his GPS was able to find this Big Rico's place. It led him straight through town to a restaurant. Dan parked and eased out of the car with a grunt. His legs were so stiff, he did a few squats and plies in the parking lot before going in. It didn't matter if anyone saw. It wasn't like anyone here knew him anyway. 

On the way in, he bumped into a man who eeped and then blushed. He wasn't so much smaller than Dan, but he seemed it the way he moved. He was bashfully talkative and nerdy, and a redhead, had freckles and cheekbones for miles, and was so much Dan's type it wasn't even funny. His name was Walter. Dan was halfway hoping his new friend would join him for some pizza, even though the other man was clearly leaving. 

They talked for a little bit and then Dan mentioned Desert Bluffs. Walter's weirdly adorable face actually paled. 

"Tonight?" he asked. "But it's Wednesday!" Dan must've looked as baffled as he felt because Walter gestured uselessly around the lobby. "Just. We don't. You shouldn't. Just. Stay here. Not here, here. But don't go out there after dark."

"What?" Dan asked. "What's out there?"

"Desert Bluffs." Walter's soft spoken voice twisted into something dark and unhappy. There was something familiar about it. "That place is just awful." He took a deep breath and then looked at Dan. "I have to go to work," he said. "But, but here." He handed over a card with his name and phone number. "If you'll wait. Maybe until tomorrow? I, I might be able to help."

"Yeah, ok," Dan said, still baffled. Walter hurried off and Dan wandered into the restaurant. He got a whole pie to go because he didn't feel like sitting down again for awhile. When he went back out, it was completely dark and the warm desert air felt heavy with the smell of garlic and oregano from the restaurant. He walked around the block, eating the pizza and looking around.

It was a bigger town than he expected. There was a Target sign over some buildings a few streets over. After awhile, he started to miss his air conditioning so he headed back to the car. He looked at the card. He wondered how seriously to take Walter's insistence that he not head out tonight. Maybe Walter just wanted him to hang around to ask him out. That was kind of tempting. But Dan had made plans to stay in Desert Bluffs already. 

He weighed the options back and forth. He finally decided to go on to Desert Bluffs and call Walter tomorrow. Maybe they could have lunch. Talk some more. Yeah. In the meantime, he started up the car and headed back out. He drove for about half an hour before he saw city lights again. Oh good. It wasn't far. He turned into the exit and found himself passing the Night Vale welcome sign again. 

What? Was Night Vale really that big that he had come into the other end of it? But no. There was the Target sign. There was Big Rico's. How…? Had he just gone in a big circle? He made sure of the direction again and pulled back out onto the interstate. This time he drove an hour and pulled back into the exact same exit. He took a few deep breaths and tried not to stare incredulously at the Target sign. He could smell the garlic from Rico's. 

He wasn't going to panic yet. Sure, the hair on his arms was up and the back of his neck was tingling and he might be breathing harder than was strictly necessary, but it wasn't the mouth of madness yet. Third time was the charm. He went to a gas station and asked for directions. The clerk was apparently a deaf mute. Of course he was. But he wrote down some directions. Dan bought a slushee to be polite and hurried back out into the dark. 

The exit that the man had written down was two hours away and it was near midnight when Dan finally saw any way off the road. It was entirely possibly Desert Bluffs had their Target near the freeway too, right? There could be two Big Rico's. Could be a local chain. But the sign said Night Vale and Dan pulled over to very quietly not scream. He drove around aimlessly after that and finally got to the edge of town overlooking the desert.

One thing about the desert was the sky. Dan had only seen night skies like this when he was flying too high above New York for the lights and the noise to drown out the stars. Out here, there was nothing but space hanging so low over the desert it looked within reach. Dan looked out over for awhile, letting his unease and frustration melt away under the stare of heaven. Maybe those lights out there were Desert Bluffs, but he was done for the day. He would lock up, catch a few hours sleep here in the car, and try again in daylight.

He cracked the window to let in some of the much cooler night air, and eased his seat as far back as possible. It didn’t recline completely, but he could settle back and sleep. Or so he thought. The silence of the desert was also as different from the noisy city as was possible. After awhile, it started to get to him, so he reached over and turned the radio back on.

“ –and listeners, there is a newcomer to our city.”

Oh hey. It was that dark voice from earlier. He must finally be in a spot to get good reception.

“ Remember all those dead animals that rained down from the glow cloud?” the Voice went on. Dan found himself squinting at the radio in confusion. What now? “ How they were different then the usual dead things that fall out of the sky? Well it turns out that there may be something behind those mysterious deaths. Maybe some of those prophecies of the last days were right. There COULD be something fell and sinister behind the clouds! But there is hope, because today, in Big Rico’s, I met the man who may save us all. “

_Hunh_ , Dan thought. _I’ve been there three times today. I wonder if I met him too._

“He was the image of a white knight,” the Voice said. It lost some of its richness and became more besotted. “Strong without being overbearing, warm without being weak, and hair you just wanted to run your hands through! Listeners, I am not usually so easily smitten, but really! It did not take any great stretch of imagination to picture him on a white horse, if you know what I mean. Whatever doctor decided to cover those eyes with glasses should be lynched outright. The doors at Rico’s flew open to let him in and I was so struck by those eyes that I walked straight into that chest.”

_Wait_ , Dan thought again. _Didn’t that happen to me? Didn’t Walter crash right into- Oh man…._

“-if angels existed, they might wear cologne like that. And his hands! Oh, listeners, his hands were perfect and they came up to my arms so keep me from falling, but it was too late. I was already in love.”

Dan was floored. First of all that anyone had ever thought that on meeting him for the first time. Second, that anyone would ever say so on public radio for the whole town to hear it. Who was that assured or socially bonkers? And then he remembered the quirky clothes and the weird mix of bashful and bizarre, which lead him to his third point of disbelief: that this voice rolling off the airwaves had ever come out of that little guy. This voice was smooth and powerful, bordering on frightening here and there, but mostly just amazing. It had to be a mask. Dan knew how that was, to find your true self where no one else could see it. But still!

“-gave him my number, but I didn’t think to get his,” the Voice went on. “So I’ll have to wait for him to call. Do you think he’ll call?”

_Probably_ , Dan thought sheepishly. He was stunned, and amazed, and maybe a little turned on, but anything else would have to wait until morning. He turned the radio down a little so he could still hear the hum of Walter’s radio voice and went to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

A loud bang woke him up. Dan floundered awake. Had something crashed into him? Another thud right about his head got him all the way up. All he could see were swirling colors. What was happening? He looked out the windshield in time to see the carcass of a rabbit land on the hood of his car with another thud. Then a dead coyote landed to the left of the car, thankfully. Was someone flinging dead animals at him? Had he parked in the roadkill patrol’s spot? 

He tried to look around, but no one was there. The colors shifted from fuschia to a full violet. He leaned to see where they were coming from and overhead was a large glowing cloud. A dead gila monster and a road runner dropped onto his car next. There was an armadillo over there, a burrowing owl landing with a lifeless little splat in front of the car, and then a horrible shower of dead mice all over the hood of the car. Something big cracked into the roof and he saw a terrapin bounce off in a spray of shell pieces. 

"Oh God!" he yelped. The colors from the cloud had deepened again to a dark blue. Mourning doves fell all around for a moment, then a rattlesnake, then a dead fox, and then another horrible thud as a small antelope of some kind landed in a heap outside. The cloud was moving away now, so the skinks and rabbits were falling farther away too. Dan opened the car door and leaned out and saw the cloud fade from blue to green and then to a bright tangerine orange. The animals were falling out of it . 

Stunned, Dan watched it move back toward Night Vale proper. He had no idea what to think of that. For a moment, it made sense that there were so many dead birds around if they were raining from a glow cloud, but then the rest of his brain kicked in. It didn't make any sense at all! He went back into the car to get his Geiger counter. As soon as he had it on, it went absolutely bonkers. The readings were off the charts. Dan panicked and went fumbling for the Thryoshield he kept with his equipment. It was blueberry flavored*, like that would ever matter to anyone in a radiation situation. 

After that, he booked it back into town too. He had to tell someone, had to warn them. Was there an air raid siren anywhere around here? Tornado warning maybe? Where was he even supposed to go? The top was probably the best place to start. He burst into the mayor's office and there was already a crowd there, with a podium and everything. He was interrupting something, but at least he could tell a lot of people quickly. Every head turned toward him as he came in and he knew he must look crazed, wild-eyed and rumpled and waving a Geiger counter. 

"That thing is radioactive!" he shouted over anyone's questions. "That may be why all the birds are dying, but, but the radiation levels are over 600,000 millirems, I mean that's more than Hiroshima! We should all be-"

"Our radiation levels are something we have always been proud of," the Mayor declared. She had the microphone so her voice carried better than his. "Our city has maintained those levels since the beginning of the nuclear era and we have led the way in millirems."

"What? No!" sputtered Dan. "That's, that's not-"

"Our levels have consistently been higher than any other city our size in the nation," she bellowed over him. "And certainly higher than those of Desert Bluffs!" The crowd actually cheered at that. "Corporate corruption has its place!" she went on. "In our homes and our schools. However!" And that was when Dan realized that there was a limit to how much disbelief he could feel. It was a cold feeling. How was this even possible? No one could be that stupid or shortsighted could they? Maybe this was how Adrian felt talking to other people. He had to try, though. 

"This isn't natural!" he shouted again. "You would need chemotherapy to get this kind of exposure, and it's everywhere, it's here!" He raised the counter again. "If you would listen-"

But the Mayor shouted him down again. She was blathering some very loud nonsense about the upcoming tourist season and Dan wasn't able to get another word in edgewise. The crowd was into it. They jostled and called out answers to the stage banter and Dan really didn't know why they weren't all erupting into tumors as he watched. 

These people were clearly crazy. But, they all seemed pretty healthy too. Dan started to back out of the room. He needed to pull himself together and make sure they weren't all going to die in their sleep from radiation poisoning. He caught sight of red hair in the crowd and there was Walter waving at him happily, but Dan really didn't feel up to facing him just then. He needed some air. He needed to breathe.  
It was still early in the day. He could still see the cloud heading north over the town. Things were still falling out of it. He had no idea how a cloud could even be full of dead animals, but he was grateful that they were already dead before they hit. Ok. Time to get a grip on this. He went back to his car. It smelled like pizza. There were probably a few slices of dinner left, but he had no appetite left. 

He couldn't just tell Adrian that glowing cloud was killing birds. There had only been a few birds in the mix. And it didn't make the remotest sense. So, it was up to him to make sense of it. Somehow. He sat in his car for a little while and read over the instructions on the Thyroshield one more time. He checked the Geiger counter to be sure it was working and then started out again. He followed the cloud. It left a trail of dead animals after all, how hard could it be?

There was no way that was natural. So what was it? Was it really a cloud? Was there something cloaked inside of it, dropping the animals? He had heard conspiracy theories about chem trails, and all those people would probably have an answer for him. Biological warfare, he thought suddenly. Drop the diseased animals onto the population. So. He was going to have to collect some of the animal bodies to study. That also meant he would probably be one of the first ones infected. Hm. How was he going to do this? He couldn't just run a lab out of his car. Unless he could.

Dan pulled over and put on a dosimeter, not that it mattered if the Geiger counter was right. He got some specimen bags out and spent the rest of the day collecting from each animal group he could find. A snake and a lizard for the reptiles, two rabbits and one of the foxes for the mammals, and several different kinds of birds, all into the bags. He would have to test them, check their stomach contents, find out cause of death, all those things and the back seat of his car wouldn't ever be the same. Hm. There was supposed to be arrangements made for him in Desert Bluffs, he remembered suddenly, and he tried to call the number there.

There was nothing on the line but static. Maybe the glow cloud affected call reception too. He could always camp, he supposed. He did have a tent, but it couldn't really be called a sterile environment. Maybe he could get a hotel room. Dissect the critters in the bathtub. Stranger things happened in hotels all the time. With a backseat full of dead animals, he headed back into town

The hotel clerk didn't ask any questions about the beeping dosimeter clipped to his shirt pocket or his frazzled appearance. Dan asked for one with a mini kitchen and got it, even though the clerk was vague about what it would cost in the end. It had a fridge in it, which was important when dealing with dead animals. And a counter to cut them open on. This, at least was something he had expected to have to do. He tried to call Desert Bluffs again, but this time all that he could hear was a sound like a clogged meat grinder. 

He would've been freaked out if he hadn't seen so much weirder today. Just for fun, he tried to call Adrian again, and was shocked to get an answering service. He left another message and got back to work. He didn't stop until he was starving. Then he washed up, changed his clothes, and headed out. He shouldn't have any appetite left at all after a day of cutting up dead things, but engines had to have fuel. There was a Subway, but the staff looked dead-eyed and the customer on the way out as Dan opened the door had something like a heartbeat thumping in his bag. No.

He found a grocery store and bought a few things from the deli. He didn't want to go eat in the hotel room with all the autopsies, so he sat in the car to eat. His dosimeter had been quiet for awhile, but he really didn't want to check it. He considered sleeping in the car again. It might be more restful than the room of death. He wasn't turning out to be a very objective scientist. 

He couldn't sit in the grocery store parking lot all night though. He drove around a little bit to decide what to do. He ended up turning the radio on and there was Walter's voice again, his radio voice anyway. He was impressed all over again by how different it was from his regular speaking voice. Dan listened to the community news, torn between amazement and the growing suspicion that he might be insane, but then Walter started to talk about him again. Walter was upset that no one had listened to Dan at the meeting, and that they had made it impossible to ask about any weekend plans Dan might have had. 

Dan snorted to himself, still stunned to hear such things about himself. He got out the card Walter had given him and looked over the number. Was Walter sincerely interested? Should he call? If he was going to die a miserable death of radiation poisoning, he might as well go with bruises from those cheekbones on his thighs and the taste of those freckles on his tongue. Walter's voice went on about something else, and Dan imagined it changing, muffled by kisses or rising higher in little bursts. It left him hard and a little dizzy. 

He pulled over into an empty lot to get a grip and then decided to get a literal one. He was maybe in one of the shallow levels of hell. He was maybe losing his mind. And maybe jacking off in his car to the voice of a stranger on the radio was the most pathetic thing he had done in awhile, but giving in felt better than anything else had in days. There was nobody around, but he still tried to keep his expression under control in case anyone passed by. He listened to Walter and looked out at the looming desert stars until it all blurred together and left him shivering in the seat. 

Once he recovered, he wiped off and listened to the last bit of Walter's show, then had to turn the radio off. Whatever was on after sounded like bones being gnawed. The rows of bodies in bags didn't seem quite so daunting anymore, so he drove back to the hotel to sleep.  
Adrian hadn't answered any of his messages by morning, so Dan went out for a real investigation this time. 

Out on the sand wastes, the heat was miserable. He decided he would only stay out a few hours and then go back to town to rehydrate. The mass bird death that had concerned Adrian had been a week or two ago, but the dry air had mummified them more than they had decayed. They were different from the glow cloud's bodies. The animals that fell out of the glow cloud were merely dead, as if they had been perfectly healthy before the cloud had rendered them dead and dropped them. 

These creatures all had obvious signs of distress. Their eyes were all bloodied, they had blisters around their eye and beak skin, and dried blood around their orifices. That was probably radiation again. He tried to get the examinations done out there so he wouldn't have to carry them back to the hotel. He wrote down his findings as he went. 

Something chittered and he looked up and there was something straight out of a nightmare. It had a row of eyes glittering black in a little crown along its head. It had a canine face that split into mandibles. Most of it looked like a dog or coyote, but all four of its legs also split halfway down into a double leg, making the count eight. While he was staring at it, Dan saw three more slowly moving around him. Instinct kicked in and he bolted. He was aware of more of them moving behind him, spreading out to flank him and drag him down, but the good news was he hadn't wandered far from the car. 

One of them sprang at him as he ducked around the hood of his car and he heard the claws scrabble on the paint job. He had left his windows down in the heat so he launched himself through it without bothering with the door. He had the car on and in reverse even as the rest of the pack clambered over it. Clawing legs and thrashing mandibles were at every window and sticky spit was sprayed all over the place before he was able to floor it and shake them off. The spit hardened quickly and he stung where it touched his bare skin. It was like being sprayed with super glue. 

He made it back to town. Who took complaints about mutant animals? In Night Vale, it was hard to tell. His best bet was probably City Council Building. Someone there could at least tell him where to go. He found a place to park and started towards the City Council doors. Someone was there ahead of him. Someone tall, and blue? It turned to face him, or he thought he did. There was an impression of blank unfeeling eyes and then heat flooded Dan's face. The moisture flowing out of his eyes felt cool by comparison. Was he crying? What was happening? The blue being reached for him and then he was falling or maybe being pulled up through a beam of brightest black. 

He could see everything. He could see everything down to its atoms. His brain labored to take stock of it all. If it could, he could understand all of this. It would all make perfect sense. The thought was an ecstatic relief, followed quickly by the dread of knowing exactly was going on. Maybe ignorance really could be bliss. He was moving, flying or falling. He could see all of Night Vale, all the lives in it flickering like static. He could see Walter at his desk in the studio, voice rolling out and freed from his self-conscious body. He could see everyone. There were more things like the blue man in front of the Council building, all exactly alike. Underneath it rolled something that primal instinct told him he might not survive understanding. There was the rolling desert, and there was the town he had never been able to reach, Desert Bluffs. 

Misgiving hit him almost immediately. This was not like Night Vale. There was a kind of symmetry, like a mirror, darkly. Where they had sparked and glimmered, Desert Bluffs had a sheen, like birefringence on a slab of meat. It wasn't as electric as it was visceral. The closer he got the more it unnerved him. There was blood. And entrails. And so many, many teeth. The dread filled him as completely as the heat had. This, this was- he didn't have a word for it. And there was someone else, someone else's voice. He recognized it too, as the other voice on the radio. It got closer and he saw the speaker. 

If he had trouble believing that the dark power in Walter's voice had come from him, the cheerful voice he heard now was no easier to accept. The voice was friendly and sunny, but it was coming out of a monster. The figure was crouched at a desk in what Dan first thought was a padded room until he realized the pink softness on the walls was entrails. The shine on the floor was from blood. Whoever the voice of Desert Bluffs was, he was dressed like an old movie tough guy and wore a stocking mask of some kind. It shifted, and Dan had a feeling it wasn't the mask but the face underneath it that was changing shape. Muscles rolled under the suit as well. He spoke of perky things while tracing a smiley face into the gore on the desk. Then he grinned and the shape of his teeth were clear through the mask. 

Dan was still soaring, but it wasn't fast enough anymore. He had to get away from that. All of it. 

"YOU CAN'T," said a voice that he could feel in every follicle and under each toenail. It filled him up, top to bottom. "CHANGE HUMAN NATURE." There wasn't room left in Dan to argue or wonder that meant, but then it all stopped. His feet hit the ground so hard, he staggered and fell. The sudden stop made his stomach lurch, but it was empty so nothing came up. The black light was gone, the heat and voice were gone. He felt hollow and deafened. The silence after the voice made him wonder if there was anything left in the world to listen to except his own ragged breathing. He tried to get up and crashed into something sturdy that clinked. His eyes felt like they had been squeezed dry, but he could see the gate in front of him. It had a sign, a stylized silhouette of a dog with a circle and a slash right through its head. It said Dog Park. 

Behind the gate, something was moving. They looked like hooded monks all in black, or maybe Nazgul, or maybe- he couldn't tell. There were two of them on either side of the gate and they moved together into his line of sight and it reminded him of the shifting mask of the not-Walter in Desert Bluffs. He lurched back, trying to throw up again. He staggered until he crashed into something he recognized, a phone booth, and was dialing the only number he could think of. It was Walter's voice on the other end and it was painfully perky, entirely too much like whatever that thing had been, and he gasped that he needed help before his legs gave out. He sat down with a heavy thump. His hands were shaking. He could hear Walter yelp and various other questions that were too far away to answer. 

*Destination Truth fans will get the reference.


	3. Chapter 3

Dan woke up in a bloodstone circle to the sound of a soft voice chanting. He was disoriented and still a little queasy, but was able to raise his head. Walter was there, sitting outside the circle. He made a pleased sound when he saw Dan move and reached for his head. Dan flinched, hoping there wasn't a crown of intestines on there. 

"It's all right," Walter said. It had been him chanting. Off the air, his voice was much gentler. "It looks distinguished."

"What?" Dan cast around and luckily enough, there was a window reflective enough for him to tell that he had streaks of white at his temples. Walter combed his fingers through it. 

"Almost presidential," he went on. His tone bordered on reverence. Dan shook him off and tried to sit up. Walter helped him. They got to a couch and rather than try to figure out where they were and if it was Walter's house or not, Dan started to tell him everything that had happened. Walter made admiring noises when Dan told him about escaping the spiderwolves and a horrified face when he mentioned going to the Council Building. 

"Nonono! Don't ever go there!" he said, clutching Dan's hands. "Not unless you get called in for reeducation."

"I didn't make it in," Dan sputtered. "This person, thing was there and it teleported me or something. It was blue and it glowed-"

"One of the angels," Walter nodded. "I've never heard of them interfering like that though, if they exist at all."

"This one existed," Dan snapped. "It, it took me somewhere, it let me see what I think was Desert Bluffs…"He gave himself a shake. "It was, God, it was-"

"Horrible," Walter agreed. 

"How is it allowed?" Dan heard his voice crack and didn't care. "Why doesn't somebody go in with Marines and flamethrowers?"

"We beat them pretty regularly at football," Walter said, with a touch of smugness. "That stings longer."

"You tried to warn me away from there the day we met," Dan remembered. "What would've happened to me if I had gone there that night?"  
Walter's face fell. 

"We probably wouldn't have seen you again until Thanksgiving," he said. "And the Dead Citizens Impersonation Contest."

"Who goes there? To Desert Bluffs?" Dan asked. Walter started to talk about football again and Dan shook his head. "No, I mean have you ever actually BEEN there?   
How do they- How does anybody survive there?"

"Well," Walter didn't seem sure how to answer that. "I know most of the economy is based around StrexCorp. It's the main employer there and it's really branching out this past year."

"Wait," Dan looked up again. "It's been this year? And is that, is that when all those birds out in the wastes started dying?"

"I'm not sure," Walter said. Dan gripped his arms and stared him in the eye. Walter blushed. 

"Think," Dan said. "Walter, this is so important. Please." Walter tried to hold his gaze, but kept sneaking peeks at his mouth. They were a little too close. "It is all possible that StrexCorp's rise and the mass bird deaths are connected?"

"I-" Walter pulled his eyes back up again. "Yes. It, it wouldn't surprise me, but-"

"Why hasn't something been done to stop it?"

"It's just commerce, Daniel," Walter said, shrugging. "It's business and business is always cut throat. Just ask Eddie Blake."

"Who?"

"Legitimate businessman. Was found in Radon Canyon with his throat cut." While Dan struggled to process that, Walter went on. "They've made a few plays to get a foothold in Night Vale, but it never works out. Officially, there's no such things as angels, but I think all our citizens can consider themselves blessed."

"Walter? When was the last time anyone here died of cancer?"

"I…. don't know…"

"Can you think of anyone who has ever had it?"

"No," Walter seemed genuinely puzzled, but he was trying. 

"Ok," Dan ran through the list of radiation poisoning symptoms in his head. "Does Night Vale have any problems with chronic headaches?" Walter shook his head. 

"Anemia? Vomiting? Dizziness? Blisters or hair loss?" 

"Just you," Walter said, eyes widening. His hands clutched Dan's hair like he was afraid it would fall out before his eyes. "You were so dizzy and sick when I found you."

"Any troubles with wounds that won't heal?" Dan persisted, ignoring the caress. It actually felt good to be cradled and held. "Gastrointestinal dysfunctions? Reddened skin?"

"No, nothing like that," Walter said. "Not in town anyway."

"How about out where the birds died?"

"I really don't know." 

"Walter," Dan made sure he caught his eye again. "What is the leading cause of death in Night Vale?"

"Street cleaners," Walter said at once. "Or dopplegangers."

"Street cleaners?" Dan wasn't sure he had heard that right.

"We don't know exactly what happens," Walter said. "But we hear the screams. Librarians were a problem, but the library doesn't even have a door anymore."

"Do people ever just get sick and die?"

"Well of course," Walter looked a little reproving. "We aren't that much of a backwater." That made so little sense that Dan shuddered and covered his face with his hands.

"Of course not," he said into his palms. "But you're being protected by something. The questions are by what and from what?"

"Well, there is no actual proof that angels exist," Walter sighed. "But I can take you out to see Old Lady Juspeczyk. She's got several at her house."

Old Lady Juspeczyk was not old. In fact, she was quite a bit younger than Dan. And gorgeous. Her angels all looked like the thing that had teleported Dan away from the Council Building. They were all tall and glowing blue and completely naked and perfect in just about every way. They were all definitely male, or had at least taken on the shape of one. Walter averted his eyes with a prudish sniff and Dan caught himself trying to suck his belly in while talking to Ms. Juspeczyk. He asked her which one had been the one to zap him. He wanted to find out why. She guffawed. 

"Take your pick," she said. "They're all one and the same. Doesn't matter which one you talk to. Collective consciousness."

"Oh," Dan said. One of the angels was several stories high and walked past them with the same expression on his face as the rest. "Neat." He was pretty sure he was handling all this really well. 

"Long story short," Dan finally said. "I'm here to investigate the mass bird deaths in the wastes and I suspect StrexCorp of being behind it. It all started when they did."

Ms. Juspeczyk raised an eyebrow, but she persuaded one of the glowing beings to escort them safely through Radon Canyon to get to the cooling tanks of StrexCorp. Walter tagged along too. He clung to Daniel's arm, so he clearly had some idea of how dangerous this was, but he also pointed out especially pretty rock formations, so maybe he thought this was some kind of date. The angel kept a kind of bubble around them that was hopefully keeping the canyon from killing them. But then they reached the dead fields. 

There were a few other animals scattered around, but the vast majority was birds. They were like the others Dan had found, clear signs of radiation and distress in their twisted bodies. It was the sheer numbers of them that left him quiet. 

"Oh…" Walter said, looking around. "This… this isn't the glow cloud. They, they were all trying to get away. From Desert Bluffs. The poor things went into the poison rather than stay there. Not that I blame them…"

The angel kept walking so they had to hurry to catch up. "Wait!" Dan said. "I need to take samples! Of, of the birds!" He gestured uselessly at the dead bodies. The angel kept walking and the bubble followed so Dan and Walter had to hurry to keep from being dragged. It stopped at a clear place between two outcrops and just stood there. 

They had come to the StrexCorp cooling tanks. They heard the faint rise and fall of voices and Walter's eyes went wide. There shouldn't be anyone out here. The angel was still in plain sight, but Dan ducked behind some stone formations and Walter followed. They crowded close together to see who it was. Maybe a little too close, Dan thought, shouldering Walter back a bit so he could take a peek. There was Adrian. Dan blinked at him a few times. It was still Adrian. Not a twisted Desert Bluffs version of him, but Adrian as Dan had seen him last. He looked dapper and comfortable in a cream suit with a purple waistcoat. He had taken off the jacket and rolled up his sleeves in the heat, and the man he was talking to was wearing a leather jacket. 

"You want results," the other man was saying. "To cure a disease no one has yet."

"YET," Adrian said. "One must keep the future in mind. All we're waiting for is the lab work."

Does he mean me? Dan thought. Was that a weird metaphor? Why did he send me out here if he was going to come himself? Why hasn't he answered any of my messages? He started to stand up, but Walter grabbed him and pulled him back down. 

"That's the guy who sent me," Dan tried to explain. "I'm just going to talk to him."

"No!" Walter hissed back. "He doesn't have his suitcase with him!"

"What?"

"He comes from a place below," Walter whispered. "And he always has a suitcase."

"Adrian?"

"No! The man in the tan jacket. Something's wrong about this, Daniel. Very wrong. He doesn't have his suitcase!"

"Yes, he does," Dan said. The man had reached down out of Dan's sight, and came back up with a deerskin case. "Look, I'm just going to ask-" Dan started to stand again, but this time Walter tackled him down. The little guy was surprisingly strong and he latched on with all his strength.

"Stop it!" Dan tried to jerk free and was startled to find he couldn't. "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING??"

"Oh no," Walter whispered. Dan turned to see what he was looking at and only had a second to register that the man in the jacket had opened the case. Something black poured out of it, and it filled the air around the two men, swirling into the sky. Dan thought for a moment they were bugs, a swarm of bees maybe, but then he heard the wings. They were birds, and for a moment they were everywhere. A few of them smacked into the force field around the angel. Then something happened. 

All the birds died. The ones in the air crashed into the rocks and fell or just dropped. They struggled and flopped for a moment. Some of them screamed. Blood burst out of some of them. After a moment, the struggles stopped. When they were still, their flesh blistered up around their beaks and eyes. Dan watched, too horrified to even notice that Walter was trying to shield him with his body. 

It felt like it lasted much longer than it did. Dan was finally able to shove Walter off and stagger up. His head was swirling. If the poison was strong enough to kill the birds, why hadn't it hurt Adrian or the man from below? How had hundreds of birds fit into a suitcase? Why was no one freaking out about this?? Why was he the only sane person for a hundred miles? All the pieces that hadn't fit came crashing back together in his head. The edges ground and broke off against each other. He didn't realize he was screaming until he had to swallow and the sound in his ears stopped. Whatever he had been saying out loud, he had been roaring it into Walter's face. Walter looked abashed and a little hurt and was scampering to pick up dead birds for him. 

The echo of his own voice, unrecognizable in rage, came back and Dan jolted back to himself. He had been yelling like a mad man. Something about killing mountains. He really had lost his mind there for a minute. The blue angel's expression hadn't changed, but he had no idea what he had been yelling at Walter to make him look so uncertain. They were still in the bubble, Dan saw, but now there were birds on the inside. 

"Is it safe to touch those?" he said, nodding at the birds. He had to clear his throat first. He really had been shrieking. 

"Safety," the angel said. "Is relative."

"I'll carry them," Walter offered. He had his arms full. "I've never seen a hawk before." He was trying so hard. Dan had to lock his jaw and nod so he wouldn't say anything else insane or unkind. The angel finally turned away from its view of Desert Bluffs and began to walk back through the wastes. Walter tried to get Dan to talk about normal, pleasant things, but it just felt like ground glass in the open wound. He finally barked that his only weekend plans were to run tests on all the birds and find out just what in the name of all that was holy (the angel didn't react to that) was going on. He fumed and growled all the way back to town and didn't remember when the angel left them or how Walter had gone home either. 

He was back at the hotel and doing tests on a dead scrub-jay before he was able to take stock of everything. As far as he could tell, the bird was in the same shape as the ones he had found before, just fresher. He had calmed down enough to feel terrible at the way he had treated Walter. He considered calling him, but then noticed that it was late. Walter would be at work. He turned on the radio and sure enough, Walter's other voice rolled out. It was talking about him again, about how glorious his righteous anger and his scientific integrity were. Dan felt guilt harden in the pit of his stomach. He was also grateful that Walter didn't mention them going to StrexCorp, since he was pretty sure he was going to have to go back.


	4. Chapter 4

Dan spent the next day preparing as carefully as the brief visions of Desert Bluffs would let him. He dressed for radiation, poison, and sharp teeth, and then did his best to hide it all under a long black cloak. If hooded figures were allowed to roam and lurk at will, Dan figured he could get away with it for awhile. He even had some oxygen filters that he had made once upon a time when he had pondered the reality of nuclear fallout and a lead-lined thermos in case he needed a sample of anything. He waited for it to get dark and then drove as close as possible to the borders of Desert Bluffs. Then, he got out to walk. 

Even with the sun gone, it was miserably hot. So hot. Sweat was trickling down his back and legs already, and he couldn't get in to all the layers to wipe it. It tickled so badly it stung. As he got closer to town, things started crunching under his feet. Maybe they were bones, but he refused to look. He remembered what he had seen during the teleportation. If he was going to get in under radar, he couldn't be reacting with horror to anything, and the only way to do that was not to _look_ at anything. 

Eyes on the prize, he told himself. He was headed for the sunny yellow StrexCorp sign. It was three in the morning when he got there and he was feeling incredibly stupid. And hot. And sweaty. And short of breath inside all his safety gear. The good news was how easy it was to fall into line with some workers going in. They eyed him a little nervously and one sniffed at him, but their smiles stayed on and their conversation was a little too cheerful. No questions were asked of him, so he kept quiet (except for the soft hiss of the oxygen regulator under his cloak) and was careful not to focus on anything too closely. 

Once safely inside, he split off from the group. He wasn't sure where to go from there, or even really what he was looking for. He tried to remember exactly what Adrian had said. Something about results and lab work. If this was a normal factory making normal things, where would a product awaiting release be? He looked around and there it was. A plaque on the wall with three words and an arrow. Research and Development. That way. Might as well. He was careful not to wonder about the slick floors or the pulsing in the walls, or the agonized flickers of light under all the doors. 

Finally he came to a room that looked enough like a lab that he opened the door and went in. There was someone there, sitting at a computer, but their feverish typing didn't stop when Dan went by. He risked a glance their way and saw that the monitor was turned off, but the black screen reflected their eyes and there was code scrolling over them as quickly as the fingers. It was eerie but the nonstop clacking didn't hesitate, so Dan went on. There were walk-in freezers full of labelled vials. The labels were all neatly printed, but the release dates were scrawled in a blood red scribble that actually seemed to be dripping. All the dates were for that year. Was this the stuff that was killing the birds? What was it actually for? 

The lack of reason to the rhymes of Night Vale and Desert Bluffs was maddening, but he made himself turn it over. There had to be an end game. Adrian wouldn't be involved if there wasn't something brilliant and profitable and devastating under the surface. What could it be? What could there possibly be to gain? He put one of the more recent vials in his thermos. The typing sounds didn't falter, so he went deeper into the complex. Something purple caught his eye and there were two rows of similar vials. The labels were stamped with an AV blurred into one symbol. That had to be Adrian's project. Of course, he had dyed it purple. There was no release date on any of them, but each row had a different serial number. He took one of each and sealed them up in his thermos too. 

That was that, then. He had to get back to safety and see exactly what he was dealing with. He tucked the thermos back into the cloak and started out. The typing employee still hadn't moved. Dan wanted to hurry, but he was a hooded figure and they didn't scamper. He walked calmly as he was able. The blue glow of more computer monitors lit up the windows in the next office. It looked like a research station. There were more of the typers with code flickering across their eyes instead of the screens, but a few of the stations were empty. There was the faint sound of a distant dial up connection. He hoped it wasn't coming from the typers too. Dan decided to chance it. He slunk to the nearest monitor. 

It hummed much louder than a normal station should. He ignored any voices that he might have been hearing in the hum. He felt sparks and pops through his gloves and wondered if it would've electrocuted him if he hadn't been dressed for it. He typed in the serial number of the first purple vial. It opened a file. Projected Outbreak Scenario. That didn't sound good at all. Was that the disease Adrian was planning for? There were a few charts and graphics that didn't mean anything to Dan, but then he saw the maps. There were two, one of the United States and one of the whole world. It was marked in red dots to show the pattern of a potential outbreak. The dates said that there would be small pockets of early infection in small towns through the U.S. in a fairly straight line from Night Vale to New York. 

Dan recognized it because that was the way he had come. Shortly after those dates, the model projected a massive outbreak in New York City and then corresponding outbreaks in other major cities all over the world. Everywhere an international flight out of New York would go. What was this? It had to be Adrian's disease. Why did he think it would start here? If he was so sure this was going to happen, how would any of this even work? 

And then it all fell into place. Dan was meant to be Patient Zero. He would come to this place and putter around like a good little flunky, be infected, and carry it home to New York. It would've spread like wildfire. He could've taken a subway and given it to everyone on the car. He imagined the people pouring out of the subways, how the crowds mingled in the streets, how fast a contagion would spread. His knees felt rubbery and he had to clutch his head just for a moment, to stop it spinning. Sweet fucking Jesus. 

He couldn't ever go home. It smacked across Dan's mind. If there was even a chance that he was exposed, and God only knew what he had been in contact with since he got here, he didn't dare carry it home. He would never see his brownstone again. Unless. Adrian had said something about having the cure. If he the other vial was a sample of that, he could test the dead birds with it, figure out how to make more. Maybe it wouldn't save the world, but he could at least save himself, and free him to spread the word to anyone who would listen. He made himself suck in a breath and then release it slowly. 

He pulled out the last vial and looked at it. Had Adrian planned all of this? Was Dan doing exactly what he was supposed to? Was this how he would be exposed and infected? He typed in the second serial number. This time the keyboard made sounds like crunching glass. He used the vial to type in case something tried to jab his fingers. The same maps came up, with purple dots in with the red. It had a different timeline. Months later. Adrian was going to let the infection spread far and wide before he tried to cure it. It made sense in a twisted, sociopathic kind of way. He wouldn't be a savior if he cured it before it spread very far, just a footnote in medical history. He wouldn't even have that if there wasn't a disease to cure in the first place. 

His discomfort was forgotten in his outrage. He stowed the thermos again and stormed out. He no longer cared if he was caught as long as he got the chance to punch Adrian in the face. He took a corner and slipped on whatever the floor was wet with. He threw out a hand to catch himself, but something else caught him first. It had a grip like iron. Dan looked down and saw the stained purple gloves holding him. One gripped his arm and the other was around his waist. Something warm and wet and slick pressed against the back of his neck, and even through all the layers, he could tell there were teeth in there somewhere. It froze him in place.

"What's this?" purred a voice. As quickly as it flared, Dan's wrath disintegrated into fear. It was the other voice from the other radio station. It was the not-Walter with the mask and the office full of guts. It lifted him with ease and spun him around. It was the hideous figure from before, spattered with blood and smelling like a grease burn. The mask roiled and Dan's stomach lurched with it. He couldn't pretend to be a hooded figure if he was being held entirely too close. He could feel the knot in the other's trench coat belt. He had no idea what it could feel from him. Its hand slid from Dan's arm to his fingers like a caress that made Dan try to jerk away.  


"I think it's a fair question," the not-Walter said. Its fingers wrapped around his. "Tell me the truth now." Before Dan could even think of an answer, its grip tightened and snapped all four fingers back. The knuckle bones grated together, then snapped. Dan couldn't stop the sound he made. The pain was perfect and clear and much easier to understand than anything else. The not-Walter twisted harder, drawing the sound out into a howl.

"That's honesty," it said, sounding breathless. "It's always a pleasure to meet new people." It bent his pinky finger until it crunched. "I do enjoy interesting company." The ring finger was twisted until every joint in it separated. Dan thrashed against the grip, but couldn't budge. The not-Walter went on as if this was a casual flirtation. "And what could be more interesting than a new person pretending to be something else?" It should've been a threat, especially with Dan's middle finger being bent backwards, but it still sounded so friendly. 

Pain and horror combined into something mind-boggling, but there was something coming out of Dan's mouth. He had no idea what and it took a moment for him to even realize that it was him, and a few more to hear what he was saying and remember that it was the truth. He was babbling about working for Adrian Veidt, here about the birds, and please God, stop! The not-Walter's head tilted in a puzzled way. 

"All true," it said. "But that doesn't make any sense. Everyone knows about the birds." There was a long pause that was mercifully free of bone damage, but the the not-Walter was moving quickly. It dragged Dan along with it. He struggled to get his feet back under him, to get his hand free. They went through several rooms and hallways, so quickly that it was all blur to Dan. Finally they came to stop and Dan staggered to regain his balance. The not-Walter's voice had gone soft and seductive. "You've been lead astray, little lamb."

"No," Dan was reeling. The grip on his arm was all that was holding him up now. He couldn't go to pieces now. If the truth was all that worked on this thing, that's what he would use. "The last time I tried to come here the angels stopped me." The pain in his arm was terrible and he was looking up at not-Walter. It must've been much taller than real Walter, because it was towering over him, still holding his wrist. 

"You can't hide from angels," it chided in a good-natured way. Dan felt his legs swaying but he couldn't tell where the floor was. "I think-" the not-Walter said. "That it would be for the best if I just let you go."

"Oh God, thank you," Dan began, but it was smothered out in a gruesome kiss. It was all teeth and horror, like some undersea creature with fangs mouthing his face through a layer of jelly. He prayed the suit would keep it from breaking his skin. It was slick and too warm and smelled like old garbage bags. And then, the not-Walter dropped him. It had been holding him off the edge of something and he fell without any idea of how far it was until he hit. He was already fighting. He had to get up, get away, get back to Night Vale, to safety. He hit and bounced and hit something else. He rolled and slid to a stop. He didn't know how long it took him to drag himself up again. 

He could see the back wall of StrexCorp. And the piles of bones. And the cooling ponds. And there was the entrance to Radon Canyon. It was ridiculous to stagger up and toward it. He had no idea how many bones he had broken besides his hand. There could be internal injuries. He could've damaged his protective suit so that he died in the canyon. He might also have the cure though. Miracle of miracles, he still had the thermos. He kept on going, crawling when he had to, into the canyon. The birds had been right. Better to risk it and die, then stay in Desert Bluffs.


	5. Chapter 5

Dan didn't look like a hooded figure anymore. He had lost the cloak somewhere in the canyon and was giddily worried that he might drown inside the safety suit from all the sweat he was pouring out. He kept himself going by reciting all the treatments he knew for dehydration as he went. Get naked, get air conditioning, get drink of water, put feet up. Repeat. He was doing his best not to worry about his injuries. He knew he had broken bones, but the pain wasn't enough to stop him yet. He held the thermos with the unbroken hand and trudged until he got to his door. He didn't know quite what to make of Walter waiting for him on the porch with a bag of Arby’s and a smile.

“The Secret Police told me you were having some difficulty with your science gear,”  he said.  Dan just stared at him. His air tank had run dry  on the outskirts of town and he had pushed the respirator aside to let him breathe. If someone had seen him, they certainly hadn’t offered to help. He had dragged himself through the valley in a haze of fear and panic. If any of those spiderwolves had found him, he would’ve been easy pickings and the thought of that had kept him going without any rest. It was possible that if he had stopped, he wouldn’t have been able to start going again.

He had aimed toward the lights as night fell over the desert. He had no idea how long any of this had taken or if it was still the same day. All that he was sure of was that the oppressive heat had lifted and the sky was now black. He had kept up his little mantra chant of all the things he would have to do as soon as he got home.  He had to get the suit off. He needed water desperately. He had sweated himself down to jerky and was seriously dehydrated. He had to put some ice on his broken bones and see if he was hurt badly enough to put himself in the hands of a Night Vale doctor. They could be as dangerous as the librarians.  When all that was done, he could ask for help with Adrian’s plan.

“Daniel?” Walter was still smiling, but he seemed unsure now who actually was under the safety suit.

Suit off. Water. Ice for the broken bones. Find help.  He had said that over and over all through this ordeal and  when he made himself speak, that was what came out in a rasp.

“Suit,” he choked out. “Water. Ice. Help.” He took another shaky step forward and Walter was hurrying down the stairs to him.

“Of course,” he said. “Of course, I will. Come now.” With his help, Dan was able  to get up the stairs and through his door. He had left the air conditioner on and even through the suit, it felt heavenly.

“Suit,” Dan insisted. “Suit.” He fumbled with it, forgetting that he was still holding the thermos. Walter tsked and set down the Arby’s bag on the table. He got the thermos away from Dan so quickly that Dan was confused by his empty grasp until he saw it beside the bag of food. 

“Here we go,” Walter said, cheerily. “You really have to acclimate to the desert heat. You can’t just go out dressed like this.” He found the sealed fasteners and released them to get to the zipper. Dan was sure he should argue with that statement somehow, but it was like the thermos, vanishing before he realized what was wrong. The air conditioning hit his soaked underlayer and he groaned. Walter chuckled a little bit before he pulled the suit back from Dan’s face enough to actually see the damage.

He gasped and Dan tried to look too. There were bruises and scrapes all over Dan’s upper body from his fall. The scrapes had had time to scab over a little bit, but the damp suit had kept the blood from drying. The bruises were black and purple all over him. He couldn’t see his face, but it felt as battered and damp as the rest of him. Walter was aghast.

“Merciless elders,” he breathed. “Your face, your arms…” Dan squirmed to shove the top of the suit to his waist and Walter sucked in a dramatic inhale. “Your poor, sweet hands!”

“Not so perfect now, huh?” Dan tried to laugh a little. Having the suit off let him breathe and he felt twice as good just from that. Walter though, was actually in tears, and Dan wondered how bad he really looked if someone from Night Vale was horrified. Walter clutched his hands and kissed the broken one tenderly. It did look awful. Every finger on it was swollen and purple.

Dan thought of fairy tales where wounds were healed and eyes grown back by tears and kisses. The tears weren’t working, but maybe the kiss would. He levered Walter's chin up with his unbroken thumb for a real kiss. There was a strange little enk of surprise from Walter, but then it was all sweetness. After all the horrible things that Dan had felt that day, this felt like salvation until Walter drew back. There was a moment of eye contact and uncertainty, but then Walter's arms wrapped around him. Kisses were kept light over Dan's bruised face, but turned fierce on his mouth. He shuddered into it. 

It was so easy just to give in, to just let his neck relax and offer himself up. He had wanted this since the first day in Big Rico's. Walter slid a hand into his hair and eagerly accepted. It was too much of a relief to feel invasive. Dan reached out too. Walter was surprisingly compact and muscular under his layers. It was so good to have something to hold on to. Dan groaned in relief and felt Walter hum back. He felt teeth on his bottom lip that immediately gentled near the broken skin. Dan pressed his mouth back against Walter, wanting to taste him. His tongue was welcomed and worshiped and it all made his head buzz happily.  
Oh God, he thought, dazed. Walter tasted like root beer and maple syrup and Dan just wanted enough of it to choke on. He might've tried. Walter finally broke away to catch his breath and they panted into each other's faces for a moment. 

"Off," Walter gasped. He tugged at the belt keeping the safety suit around Dan's waist. "Get this off. See how bad-" He was interrupted by another kiss and enjoyed it a moment before getting back on task. "Mmm. Take care of your-"

Dan fumbled to help him. They got the suit down his legs and off his feet, Walter gasping and cringing at every new injury. Dan wasn't willing to let the mood go. He kept nuzzling and mouthing at Walter's lips and throat despite the pain. 

"You need to settle down," Walter told him, breathless and amused. "And let me-"

"Yes," Dan interrupted again. "Anything. Let you anything." Walter blushed. Was all his steamy talk just talk? "Please," Dan went on. "Need you."

"No, you don't," Walter whispered, but his hands were full of Dan's sweaty underclothes and he returned the next kiss. 

"Yes," Dan tried to insist. "You're good." He didn't know how to explain how important and necessary that particular trait was. He pushed their noses together and then their tongues. Walter sighed and leaned in to draw Dan's into his mouth. It sent another ripple of bliss through Dan and he moaned into it. Dan just wanted to drink him all up, but that made him remember how dehydrated he was. Water and ice, he reminded himself. Not to mention a shower. Walter was kissing him eagerly again, down over his jaw to his throat. Having a mouth on a vital spot should've triggered the same panic he had fought all day, but like before, he just relaxed into it. Walter stopped suddenly when he got to the back of Dan’s neck. Dan didn’t remember the gelatinous toothiness of the not-Walter, until he felt the touch on the raw skin.

“’Aw geez,” he groaned. “Did he get through the suit??” He fumbled to check the suit for rips. “I felt him latch on, but I didn’t think-“

“You’ve been to Desert Bluffs.” Walter’s voice was flat and his face was blank.

“I- Yes. I had to beca-“

“Suit won’t keep THAT one out. He can bite without ever tearing his own mask, so your suit wouldn’t stop him either.” Walter pulled his collar away from his neck to show a faint bite scar on his shoulder. It was old, but it must've been horrible when it happened. Dan shuddered so hard he staggered. Walter caught him by the arms and Dan felt like he was a barely able to restrain himself from giving him a shake before Walter leaned in close.

“You are lucky to be alive!” It was a furious hiss.

“I can’t spread it if I’m dead,” Dan said. That realization left him feeling a little sick. Maybe he should’ve let the spiderwolves get him. Let them die off and leave the human population unscathed. He swayed a little. Walter was suddenly out of reach and Dan was disoriented and queasy until a glass of water was held against his hand. Dan guzzled it down and was handed another, and another, and one more, before Walter took his good arm and towed him toward the shower.

"There has to be away to stop it," Dan said. "Some way to warn everyone." His clothes were removed and the shower was turned on. It felt like being beaten to death by tiny drops of rapture. It stung in his cuts and pounded on his bruises, but it washed him clean and left a slick layer of what felt like purity over him. He drank some more from the nozzle. It eased the heat baked into his bones by the ordeal and left him feeling boneless and weak. He could lay down in the tub and stay there forever, but found himself lead out again. He was bandaged and seen to, put to bed, and given another cold drink. There was an ice pack on his hand and his head and his ribs. He held still to keep them in place but pulled Walter close with his good hand. 

"Affectionate, aren't we?" Walter said. It was probably meant to tease, but there was such genuine happiness there that Dan managed to smile back. 

"I need you," he said again. 

"Oh." Walter blushed again. "Oh, my dear. You've had a trying experience." 

"Betrayed."

"What?" Walter looked startled. "Who would-"

"Adrian Veidt."

"Oh." The gears in Walter's head were grinding, but his voice was soft and cautious. "You said you came here for him? Were… you close?"

"Ha!" Dan winced as soon as he laughed. "Augh. No. Not like that. We used to work together. Hadn't heard from him in years until he asked me to come." He grimaced again and Walter cuddled him, stroking his face and chest. Dan kissed his thumb when it got close enough, which earned him a rumble and a kiss on the lips. 

"He wanted me to examine the birds, but he's the one killing them," Dan said. His head spun and he could hear his own voice echo. He probably wasn't going to be conscious much longer. "He brought me here to infect with a disease he invented, so I would spread it and he could be a hero by providing the cure."

"That!" Walter struggled with his words, which had to be a first for him. "That is-" He sputtered a little more. "HIGHLY UNETHICAL!"

"Hey," Dan squirmed to look him in the eye. It took a lot more energy than he had to spare. "You can't tell anyone about this." He gestured at himself and Walter's face fell a little, his wrath dissolving into hurt.

"Oh…"

"Don't want anyone to know I'm still alive and back in Night Vale," Dan added. "Not until I know what to do." He brushed his good fingers over Walter's cheekbones. "Not ashamed of wanting you." 

"Oh!" Walter brightened. "If I had my bloodstones I could chant or-"

"Just stay with me," Dan said. He settled down and curled an arm around Walter's waist. He was fading fast. "Don't let them get us." He felt fingers combing through his hair again and heard an adamant whisper of 'Never." before he was out.


	6. Chapter 6

Dan had to heal before he could do anything else. He had nightmares as well as the physical injuries, so it was days and weeks before he was able to get back to work. Walter did his best to help. He set Dan up in a surprisingly equipped lab underneath an abandoned warehouse. The only things unpleasant about it were the jellyfish-like ooze dripping from the ceiling and the disembodied chanting that came out of it. Walter also did what he could to announce safety hazards and product recalls on Strexcorp products on the air. 

The bloodstone circles were working, even for someone with pain receptors. Dan took them to work with him, and listened to the radio to drown out the chanting. One night, hard at work with his research, he heard Walter get an announcement from station management about him.  Daniel Dreiburg was missing, Walter explained over the air. His voice was overly concerned but everyone knew he had been going on about Dan since they met, so hopefully it would read as distress over that.

It was just a brief description of him, and the information that he had last been seen in the wastes outside of Night Vale. There was a number to call if anyone had seen him, or had any information on his current whereabouts. Walter read that out loud, but somehow neglected to actually say the number, which made Dan grin in his underground lab. He went back to working on the stolen samples.

The public hunt for Dan began to escalate. First the first two weeks, he was only missing. By the third, he was a person of interest, though it wasn’t clear of interest to what. Walter implied it was of interest to him personally, but no one offered up any ideas as to where he had gone. Dan was a little surprised. He would’ve thought that with all the hidden secret police officers and other insanity in this town that someone would’ve figured it out. Then again, maybe people disappeared a little too regularly around here.

At the end of the month, Dan’s status was changed again to actively wanted. A smug Walter informed his listeners of that also being very much the case, which made Dan blush and snort with laughter in his hiding place. He made sure to repay that comment when Walter brought him some dinner.  There wasn’t time for much else though. He was still trying to beat the deadline for the disease’s release date. He had to have a cure ready by the time it was.

It had occurred to Dan that it would be much more satisfying to vaccinate everyone ahead of time. He imagined Adrian releasing his project and having nothing happen.   Would he be confounded? Angry? He never did take criticism well, and outright failure even worse. And who could he tell? He couldn’t just say that he had tried to infect humanity with his own patented disease, but it hadn’t worked and he didn’t know why. He would have to start all over. Who even knew what he might come up with next, was the problem.

Dan had considered recruiting the angels to help.  If he could get a cure finished, could they teleport it everywhere? _Would_ they even bother? He ended up calling Laurie to ask her.

“Well, well,” she said. “If it isn’t the hundred thousand dollar man.”

“What?” he asked.

“That’s the reward for any information that leads to your safe return.”

“Safe return to whom?” he asked, and she laughed.

“You know, they didn’t say,” she said.

“You won’t get it,” he told her. “They’re lying.”

“ _’They’_ usually are,” she agreed.

“All you’ll get is a neurotoxin,” he said. “You’ll think you have the flu right up until your nervous system blows.  He tried to spread it with birds first, but they died   
before they could infect anyone. So I was brought in to spread it for him.”

“Have you?” she was a little more serious now.

“Not yet,” he said, then took a deep breath. “Listen. Will the angels help me with this?”

“I dunno,” she said. “They’re not real into such small scale doings. They like changing light bulbs and deflecting dark planets.”

“They like you, though.”

“They seem to.” Some mischief crept back into her voice and he wondered exactly what her relationship was with the otherworldly creatures.

“Will I have to put your life on the line to get them to intervene?” was all he asked. There was a pause on the phone.

“Ok,” she said. “Here’s where you laugh and say ‘just kidding’.”

“Ha,” he said, and hung up the phone. When he turned around, there was an angel there.


	7. Chapter 7

The angel was tall and naked and as far as Dan could tell, physically perfect. There was nothing blemished or even offensive about its nakedness. It was taller than him, had no hair anywhere, and glowed faintly blue, like a radioactive statue. Dan took a step back just to keep the mind-spinning sensation of being close to it at a minimum. 

“You showed me everything once,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm. “Without any kind of consent. I never asked for it. This time I’m asking, and I only need to see one thing.”

“You know it’s a virus,” the angel began. Dan was harried enough to bare his teeth. 

“I need to know the genetic sequence of it,” he said. “I don’t have the equipment here to do that, or the time. You showed me this town on a level I can’t even process. How hard would it be to do the same for these?” He held up what was left of the samples he had taken from Desert Bluffs.

“Time,” the angel said. “Is what you don’t have. You aren’t aware of the easier path. The faster one.”

“Tell me,” Dan said. He forced out a “Please.”

“You’re a carrier,” the angel said. Dan felt his blood freeze. “You were infected, but not affected.”

“It’s in me,” Dan said, letting that horror move in Lichtenburg bursts through him. “Already. Phase One is complete then.”

“You have not spread it,” the angel said, looking off into the middle distance of Dan’s ooze-stained cinder block wall. Maybe it was checking all the other Night Vale citizens. 

“I haven’t been near anyone to spread it,” Dan said, even as he thought of Walter and found it hard to breathe. “Shit.I really should’ve let the spiderwolves get me. I don’t suppose it occurred to you to destroy me.”

The angel blinked, slow and measured. 

“You’re going to do something,” it said. “That is the future. It is set. If I destroy you, the future will change.”

“Does it work then?” Dan was desperate now. “Whatever it is I do.” The angel processed again.

“None of us ever know exactly what you do,” the angel said. “There is an incident, but the details aren’t clear, which is odd in of itself.”

“Because you should know,” Dan guessed.

“I hear about it on the radio,” the angel said and then it was gone, leaving Dan with a nosebleed and what felt like windburn on his face. Fuck. Infected. But not affected. What did that even mean? He was a carrier. All right. He hadn’t come in contact with anyone but Walter since he had gotten back. Fuck! But Walter hadn’t shown any symptoms. Maybe something had to happen. A catalyst of some kind. Maybe Dan’s efforts to vaccinate the town would be the thing that infected them all. Maybe Adrian had outplanned him every step of the way. 

“God fucking damn it!” he hissed, too angry to even shout. He made himself breathe more carefully. He had to think. Maybe he could just live in exile forever. But no, apparently there was a set future where he didn’t. Unless it wasn’t set and that’s why the angel couldn’t see it. Maybe he could still fix this. Maybe there was still hope. If he was taking what the angel said as fact then there was an easier, faster way to make a vaccine. If he was carrying it already, couldn’t he make the vaccine from his own infected cells? And he had to be sure that Walter didn’t have it. The angel had said no one else had it, but Dan had to be sure. 

He tapped out a text to Walter’s phone and looked at it a moment before sending. YOU CAN’T SEE ME. NEED SOME OF YOUR BLOOD. was probably the weirdest and borderline frightening messages he had ever sent to anyone. This was Night Vale though. It should be fine. He hit send and started to wipe some of his nose blood into a slide for testing. The ooze that had spread to the ceiling dripped and landed right on the sample. Dan watched it suck up the blood and turn to a pink oozy blob. He stared at it for a long moment, thinking. 

The angel said no one was infected but Dan. He didn’t need to cure anyone but himself, really. That meant he only had to stop any more of the virus from being released. Desert Bluff was a horror show. Maybe it was time to fight nightmares with nightmares.


End file.
